Complicated Emotions
by Luv2Game
Summary: Sitting by Derek's bedside, Angie looks on in worry, contemplating on what the doctor means to her. Kimishima's words tug at her mind, and the nurse wonders just why it is she hides her tears from him. ::SO-DerekAngie::


_**A/n:**_ Well, hello _Trauma Center _board. Long time fan, fist time post. Just finished up _Second Opinion_ the other day, and this line just popped out at me, begging me to do a little something concerning it. So, here I am. Let's see...this takes place after episode 6-4. **Spoilers **are present for the Wii version of the game. For those of you unaware, chapter 6 of the Wii differs greatly from the DS. This here piece follows directly after Derek has his surgery. And, yeah, it's a total Derek/Angie.

C'mon, it's so obvious. XD

_**Disclaimer:**_ _Trauma Center_ isn't mine. It's all property of Atlus.

Oh, yeah- I know that, technically, a window isn't shown in Derek's recovery room, but who can live without windows? And I was so positive there had been one present, I included one. Wasn't I surprised when I went back and saw that the room looks like a padded cell. Hah! So, yeah, please over-look that little blunder. Okay, now without further adu, I give you:

_**Complicated Emotions**_

**xxxx**

The high-pitched beep of heart monitor kept a steady pace, resounding of the stark white walls of recovery room 317. Various other clicks and sharp tones joined in the chorus, keeping steady rhythm throughout the room. Some might find the common hospital noises nothing short of irritating. Yet Angie Thompson found them to be the exact opposite: comforting. Not because she worked as a nurse and was accustomed to the pings and beeps of life-saving machines, but because of the message hidden within the sounds.

Because they told her that Derek was alive.

Hard-backed chair pulled up to his bed-side, the nurse thanked God above for the beeps that kept reminding her Derek was stable, that the GUILT he had been infected with was eradicated, and that he was merely sleeping- that he _would_ wake up.

Expelling a weary breath, Angie stood from her chair. Arms above her head, she stretched, rising to the tips of toes. She had been sitting in the plastic oval thing ever since Derek had returned from the operating room, only leaving his bedside once to hurry to the restroom. That had been nearly two hours ago. Though her training and knowledge as a nurse told her Derek would be unconscious for at least another hour, she just couldn't bring herself to leave the overly-bright room. Just as she hadn't been able to leave since she followed him out of the operating room. Though her aching muscles told that even if she didn't leave, she needed to move.

Assuring herself Derek was covered properly, Angie moved from the bedside and slowly traipsed about the room, bare stocking feet gliding over the tile. The recovery room was fairly large. And though she was used to Caduceus spacious quarters, the European branch seemed even grander in scale. A bed, small table and storage space was really all the recovery room offered, but it did so with ample space to spare. The excess room held little appeal for the nurse; her focus was on the window that stretched nearly half-way across the back wall.

Reaching the glass, she pulled back the blinds, hoping to let some natural light in and weed out the bright artificial. To her surprise, however, she was met with a dismal gray and the light patter of rain against the window pane. Placing her hand against the cool glass, Angie wondered when the weather had turned from bright and sunny to dreary and wet. She was certain the sun had been present before they had entered surgery earlier that morning. Though, honestly, her mind had been on one thing and one thing only all day long.

Turning to glance at Derek, she leaned into the window, head resting against the panes. She had been nothing but a jumble of nerves and tears for most of the morning, and the man lying in the bed was the cause for it all. Even now, after she had witnessed and assisted with his operation, her stomach would do the occasional flip-flop. She knew he was going to be okay, yet her nerves were still on high alert.

She hated that feeling. Hated not being in control of her emotions. She hated feeling helpless. Useless. She had been assaulted with each emotion when she had heard Derek was infected with the parasite they had been fighting against together for so many months. He had collapsed right in front of her. It had happened so fast. One moment they were closing up a patient, and the next Derek was clutching his chest and on the floor. Everything else- the diagnosis, the surgery- seemed to happen in a blur.

And though it had all appeared to occur so quickly, it had seemed so agonizingly slow at the same time. Her mind had been allowed to wonder, and it had gone in some of the most unpleasant directions. Thoughts of Derek dying of the virus before he could even be operated on. Thoughts of him dying in the middle of the surgery, right before her eyes and unable to do stop it. Wondering if he would make it through surgery and then die of complications afterwards. The dark ideas had ran rampart, and left despair and emptiness in their wake. With each cogitation she wondered bleakly what she would do if he didn't make it.

She had been with him for months now, always by his side. They had been through so much together, so many operations. He had become a constant in her life. The thought of him not being there...

Turning briskly from the window, Angie moved across the room, pushing the grim thoughts from her mind. There was no need to dwell on such things- Derek was sleeping peacefully, chest rising and falling with each breath. Coming to rest at the foot of his bed, the nurse braced her hands on the metal footboard, green eyes sweeping over his form. Immediately some of the tension clinging to her receded. His color was its natural peachy hue, signifying that life-giving blood was flowing through his veins. He was fine, and there was no reason for her to dwell on negativities.

With a slight shake of her head, she moved from the end of the bed and quietly padded over to her chair. Tucking her knees underneath of her and settling into the uncomfortable plastic, Angie leaned forward, hand reaching forward to once again ensure Derek was covered. Fingers deftly wrapping the thin blanket around his shoulders, she felt a smile tug at her lips. If he was aware that she had been sitting by his bedside for hours, fussing and worrying and assuring herself he was wrapped up as tight as an Egyptian mummy, Derek would no doubt tease her to no end.

The smile on her face grew. The doctor's sense of humor wasn't something she had always been aware of, though she was sure that was her own fault. Their relationship had started out quite rocky, to say the least. Soon before transferring from Hope to Caduceus, however, the turbulence surrounding them had all but disappeared and a friendship had formed. Remembering the first time Derek had shared his light-hearted and playful side with her, Angie's smile stretched wider. They had been taking a quick break between rounds late one night at Hope, and though she couldn't remember exactly what had prompted him, she could clearly remember nearly choking on her meal because of his witty remark.

Hand traveling from the blanket to his forehead, Angie rhythmically brushed her fingers through the brown hair resting there. He could always make her smile, no matter what mood she was in. And he never really had to try. A joke, a nudge, a glance. The simplest thing brought a grin to her lips. He was so much more than just the doctor she had been assigned to. He was her dearest friend.

Her fingers faltered, and her apprehension once again hit her in the chest. In reality, he was so much more than just her friend. She didn't just look forward to each day of work just because she would be able to help the sick and heal the world, she looked forward to it because she would be right beside _him_. She wasn't just thankful to be alive each and every morning, she was thankful because she would once again be able to spend time with _him_. And if Doctor Kimishima hadn't been able to successfully remove the Kyriaki and Paraskevi that had been attacking his heart, her world would have suddenly had no meaning at all.

The words Naomi Kimishima had spoken to her hours earlier rang out in her head, tugging at her conscious and pricking her heart.

_Why do you hide your tears from him?_

That was what she had wondered. It seemed so simple, but it was so much more that it appeared. Angie's hand left Derek and moved to her own hair. Twirling the blond strands between her fingers, the nurse chewed on her lower lip as she contemplated the doctor's words.

Why _did_ she hide her tears from him? Was she afraid? And if so, afraid of what? Afraid he would think her a silly young woman infatuated with her boss? Afraid of what other's would think of her for mixing her professional life with her personal? Afraid he wouldn't share her sentiments and reject her? What _was_ she hiding from?

Fingers still toying with her hair, Angie slowly thought over each accusation she thrown at herself and checked off each one. She wasn't afraid that she would be classified as a woman with a child-hood crush; she had never been one for useless puppy love. Nor was did she fear being judged for mixing her two lives together; she was a responsible young woman and was quite capable of making her own decisions. She wasn't exactly afraid of rejection because Derek wouldn't just scoff or laugh at her- even if he didn't share her feelings. Though, when honest with herself, she did fear a _type_ of rejection.

She was afraid that she would lose his friendship. She knew Derek well enough to know that he would never intentionally shun or hurt anyone, but, theoretically, is she did confess her feelings and he didn't agree with them, how would he react? Even if they buried the subject under a rock and left it alone, there would still be an awkwardness about them. There'd have to be. Unrequited love was never a pleasant thing, and if the other person knew...She couldn't bear the thought of not having him there to laugh and share things with, if only as a friend...

But today, when she had been faced with the thought of not having him at all- _ever_- and never telling him how she truly felt, never exploring the possibility of having a genuine relationship with him...never knowing if they might have a chance...

It was all so complicated! And frustrating! And painful.

With a soft, conflicted sigh, Angie turned back to the doctor. What was she supposed to do? Placing her hand against the warm skin of his cheek, she couldn't keep the corner of her mouth from twitching up. Well, as long as he was asleep, she supposed she could touch him all she wanted. Hand moving over his face, her fingers began to trace along his strong jawline, pausing every moment or so to brush her thumb against his chin and cheek. Once her path was complete, she merely started the journey again, movements gentle and tender.

Her fingers had moved up to his temple when Derek shifted suddenly, causing her to pull her hand away as though caught stealing from the cookie jar. Hand clenched tight, she watched as his eyes fluttered. Her heart hammered to life in her chest, though whether it was because she had nearly been caught caressing his face or because he was waking up, she didn't know. A small groan came from the bed, and Angie leaned forward, curiosity and concern pushing out all other emotions.

Slowly, Derek cracked open his eyes, blinking sleepily as he moved his head, taking in his surroundings. Angie nearly giggled aloud as she watched his brown eyes survey the room, a haze of medication and confusion clouding his sight. Reaching beside her and plucking his wire-rimmed glasses off of the table, she offered them to him wordlessly, unfolding them in the process.

Mind still running through a fog, Derek slipped them on, blinking pointedly a few more times before obviously becoming a bit more aware of just where he was. Eyes no longer quite as dull as moments before, he glanced to his side. The sight that greeted him forced a slow, lazy smile to stretch across his lips. His nurse was sitting right next him, chair pulled up to his bedside as close as possible. Voice still hoarse from the medicine, it took him a moment to force out, "Hey, Ang."

Expelling a thankful breath, Angie felt her smile from earlier return. All the anxiety, fear, confusion, and wonder from the trying day seemed to evaporate as soon as her doctor opened his eyes. Impulsively, her hand sought his, and, wrapping her fingers around it, her grin grew. "Hi, Derek."

Suddenly, things didn't seem quite so complicated.

**xxxx**

_**A/n: **_'Kay, so maybe it's more one-sided Angie/Derek, but it's still shippy, right? And, yes, I think Derek looks like a serious goof-ball and I feel as though he would call her 'Ang'. You know the nickname's cute.

At the moment, this is just a one-shot but it might turn it into a two-part/trilogy. _Might_ being the key word there. I have a couple of ideas of where this could go, but I'm not sure if I wanna take it there. Haha! Sounds weird, but y'all know what I mean, hmm?

Yep. Well, that's it for now. I love hearing from reviewers, so, please, don't hesitate to drop me a line or two! Opinion's on whether or not this should stand as is or be built upon are welcome, too. I hope you enjoyed this here piece as much as I liked whipping it up.

_- L2G_


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